


i put a spell on you

by CapnWinghead



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Light Angst, Play Fighting, Porn with Feelings, Teasing, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25791193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnWinghead/pseuds/CapnWinghead
Summary: Steve Rogers wakes one night to find the elusive Black Widow standing in his loft.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 101





	i put a spell on you

**Author's Note:**

> Quick fill for day 6 of AU August. Prompt: Enemies.
> 
> Only this is less so enemies as much as it is an AU where Steve was tasked with chasing after the elusive Black Widow. Nat never came to work for SHIELD, she's got her own mission and Steve grows fond of her.
> 
> Title for Aqualung's "strange and beautiful (i'll put a spell on you)".

Steve waits with a start, his heart racing.

Sitting up, his eyes quickly adjust to the darkness of his bedroom. He slides out of bed, padding quietly around the screen separating his sleeping area from the rest of the loft. It’s still, no sign of any trouble. He ventures further out, adrenaline coursing through his body.

He passes a nearby pillar when there’s a flash of red. His hand shoots out reflectively, stopping a block to his face. His eyes cut to the side, his hand secured around the thin wrist in hand.

“Natasha?”

A coy smile. “Nice place.”

Dropping down, her legs swipe at his knees. He grips the pillar, lifting himself up and over her. A foot kicks playfully at his back, knocking him off balance. He turns it into a roll, coming up on his knees as she nears. Her foot plants on his thigh as she lifts up, wrapping her legs around his head and pulling him down to the floor.

He lands on top of her, a breathless smile spreading across his face. His hands land on either side of her head, gazing down at her. The teasing glint in her green eyes makes his heart swell with fondness. He chokes it down.

He moves to stand up when her smile wavers, a pained wince giving way as her left thigh tenses. His brow furrows with disapproval.

“Alright, come on,” he says, helping her up.

+

Natasha stands in front of Steve’s case board, touching the note cards. There are pictures of her all over the globe, Moscow, Queenstown, Bangkok and Dubai. There’s surveillance footage from one of the SHIELD safehouses she’d broken into in London. There’s even a scan of one of her false passports.

She hears Steve’s soft footsteps on the wood. He could be quiet, but never quieter than here. Dressed in sleep pants and nothing else, he looks gentler this way. Blue eyes met hers as he spoke “Sit down.” It’s a soft command, not an order. He’d learned long ago how well Natasha responded to orders.

She turns towards him, gesturing to the board. “You missed me in Prague.”

“Did I?” he asks, laying out his suture kit on the bed. “You weren’t there long.”

She moves towards him, pushing through the twinge of pain in her leg. “You keep tabs on all the women in your life?”

“Just the spies.”

He waits, hands on his hips near the bed. She steps out of her suit, revealing the gash on her left thigh. She sits on the edge of the bed and he kneels down to get a better look at it. His calloused hands are painstakingly gentle on her skin as he touches her bare thigh. His hair’s a mess, she notes fondly. There are pillow marks embedded into his skin, which seems to imply that he’d been sleeping. But the bags under his eyes tell her that it hadn’t exactly been restful.

It worries her. Because anything that worries Captain America should worry her, she supposes.

She fights the urge to run her fingers through his hair when he asks, “Gunshot?”

“Just a graze.” He touches antiseptic to the wound. “It’s fine.”

He cleans it efficiently, wrapping it up. His hand rests over the bandage, smoothing it down. His eyes are knowing and focused when they meet hers. Her mouth twists, knowing there’s a lecture coming.

“There are new scars here,” he muses, his fingers tracing over her skin.

She shivers, his fingers sending a brushfire along her nerves. Her face warms, focus narrowed down to his large hand on her thigh, his breath hot on her bare skin. It isn’t as if this is the first time she’d been in front of him in her underwear, but it’s been a while. A fact her body is taking note of.

“I’m sure if I got a look at you, there’d be new scars, too.”

His brow rose, amusement in his gaze. “Yes, but I have a team helping me.” He sits back on his knees, his arms on either side of her.

“I work best alone.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. There’s a spark in his eye, his thumb tracing over her skin as he leans in closer. Her stomach tightens in anticipation, her sex growing heavy as arousal sings in her blood. His hand nears as he watches her intently, his palm sliding up her thigh. His thumb traces the lace edge of her panties in a tease. She’s wet; she knows. In a few seconds, he’ll know, too.

His hand spreads out on her thigh, his thumb tracing down the center of her mound. Brushing through her folds and over her hardened clit, drawing a soft moan. His eyes catch on her face, tongue swiping over his lips as he adds more pressure, circling it. She shifts, pushing into it as her legs spread sider. He continues teasing her, his face flushed as he leans in closer, closing his lips over the cloth.

Sucking lightly, her clit throbs at the wet warmth. Groaning, she touches his head. He tongues the fabric, pressing it into her soft folds, the slide of the silk driving her mad. “Stop teasing me,” she murmurs.

With soft sucks, he plays with her more, his fingers sliding in underneath her waistband. Sitting back, he tears them off in seconds. With a hand on her stomach, he pushes her down on her back, rising up. He grips her thighs tight in his hands, rising up on his knees as he dives into her pussy. Her eyes fall closed, her back arching as his tongue dips through her center, lapping at her clit and taking it between his lips again.

She aches to close her legs around his head, keep him there forever, but he holds tight, keeping her spread open for him. Lip caught between her teeth as she tries to keep quiet. Soft moans and keens escape, heat coiling in her center and spreading outward. She’s close; she can feel it building inside her. Her muscles tightening as each hard suck and lap at her clit draws her closer to the edge, her fingers twisted in his hair.

He grips her tighter, arms curling around her thighs as he pulls her to the end of the bed, burying his face in his cunt. His tongue dips inside of her, his nose brushing her clit. His breathing is labored, his body tense. He’s hard, he’d be touching himself if he wasn’t holding tight to her legs, keeping her close, making her behave. The thought makes her moan, picturing the marks left on her thighs come morning.

A hard suck and nip at her clit makes her scream, her cunt clenching tight around nothing. Her toes curl, waves of pleasure leaving her weak and lax in his grip. Groaning, he laps up her release greedily. Arching, she pushes further into his mouth as he keeps her open, taking everything she has to give.

She finally settles, nerves on fire, the sheets too cool on her flushed skin. He’s still lapping at her gently, just tasting her. She turns her head, eyes opening dazedly. He’s dropped one hand into his lap, the slick sound of skin on skin as he strokes himself. Her clit throbs, the need drawing her forward. She sits up, pulling at his arms.

His eyes are dark, lips swollen and wet with her release. He curls a hand behind his head, drawing him into a kiss. He tastes of her, she notes, her tongue touching his teasingly before drawing him in. He follows her up onto the bed, pulling away long enough to let her tug his shirt overhead. He comes down on top of her, his bare skin hot against hers. His weight makes her feel settled, safe. She’d never dwelled on that fact before, and she won’t start now.

Pushing at his hips, she rolls on top of him, his hard cock brushing against her hip. Swollen dark and red at the tip, leaking onto his belly. She takes hold of him, stroking him teasingly just to feel the weight of him, hot and heavy in her hand. He gazes up at her in awe, his mouth falling open as she rising up, her knees on either side of him. Slowly, she lowers herself down, taking him inside. He’s thick, her cunt welcomes him in greedily, squeezing tight around him. His eyes flutter, a deep groan escaping. His stomach tightens, hands falling to her waist to hold.

Laughing softly, she gives a teasing roll of her hips just to watch him melt into the sheets. Rising up, she starts a slow rhythm, goading him to grip her tighter, speed it up. He can’t; he can barely master keeping his eyes open. She loves him this way. He’s letting out these soft little whines that make her want to wreck him, keep him here inside of her, on the edge until he can barely remember his name.

He’s rolling his hips to meet her, his kiss bitten lips caught between his teeth. Hands slide along her hips as he curls upward, pulling her tighter in his lap as he sits up. A moan punches out of her, her thighs tightening as she takes more of him this way. His arms curl around her back, their breathing in sync she nears the edge. She picks up speed, riding him harder, rougher, her orgasm building with every drop of her hips.

It rips through her like a shot, pure adrenaline leaving her shaking and holding tight to his arms. Every nerve ending sings, her hips rocking against his needfully as she tightens around him. His hands clutch at her desperately, panting as she presses her head to his temple. She feels it when he comes, the stiffening of his muscles, she hears the catch of his breath as he swells inside of her and spills. She takes more of him inside, sinking down to the hilt as groans, his cock pulsing once more. He buries his face in her neck as she works him through it.

She cards her fingers through his hair as he comes down, giving into the desire to press soft kisses to his temple and cheeks. He’s so out of it, he most likely won’t remember. She’s banking on that.

In the morning, she wakes to cool air on her skin.

In her sleep, she’d rolled out from underneath the covers. It’s for the best. If she can make it out before he wakes, they won’t have to have “The Talk” again.

She sits up carefully, reaching for her clothes when the bed shifts. Cursing, she stills, waiting.

“You don’t have to go,” he rasps.

She turns, watching him rub at his eyes. He always looks like a sleepy little boy in the morning. Nothing like the man that spent his days trying to solve others’ problems. It brings a helpless smile to her face, a warmth swelling in her chest.

“Go back to sleep,” she murmurs.

“I will if you will.”

She returns to gathering her clothes, avoiding his gaze. “I have somewhere to be.”

“You always do.” Sighing, she looks back at him. He sits up, the sheets sliding down to pool at his waist. There’s a trail leading down his chest to his happy trail. She doesn’t remember leaving “When are you going to tell me what you’re after?”

She hesitates, just for a second. He must see it in her face because he reaches for her, touching her hand. She pulls away. “Don’t do that. Don’t get attached.”

“You obviously don’t know me that well.” It’s meant to be a joke. It doesn’t sound like one.

“I know your type. Lost your mother at a young age, so now you try to save every woman you meet. I’m not one of your damsels.”

His eyes narrow, a piercing blue. “I know your type, too. Life hasn’t been kind to you, so you think you have to be a one-man army. You don’t trust anybody and you push away people who honestly care about you.”

There’s honest concern in his eyes and it makes her chest ache. She’s seen it before; it blended in so nicely with the affection and the fondness he let slip before he buried it down. Those soft blue eyes gave away all the things Steve would never say. The things he swallowed down because he knew she would never want to hear them.

It had never mattered that they met when SHIELD sent him to stop her. It had never mattered what she’d done in the past, the red in her ledger. The things she knew Steve knew about because he had files on top of files about her past. Who she was broken down to every single infraction, every incident that had turned her into the woman she was. The woman that continued pushing away the greatest man she’d ever known.

Steve cared about her because he didn’t know how not to. And if he didn’t stop, it’d get him killed.

“You’ve got to stop chasing after me.” She stood up, pulling on her suit. Turning around, she caught the stubborn twist of his mouth.

She ignores the way it tugs at her heart and moves around the bed. As she drops a kiss to the top of his head, he touches her hip, his hand tightening to hold.

But he let’s go. He always does. 

  
  



End file.
